Text: William Moseley Swain, “Something Disgraceful,” Public Ledger (Philadelphia, PA), vol. XX, no. 91, January 8, 1846, p. 2

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SOMETHING DISGRACEFUL. — That species of sporting with public credulity denominated a hoax, was lately enacted in New York, by “The Broadway Journal,” in a manner decidedly reprehensible. We do not object to this species of sport, when it violates no feelings too sacred for a jest, and when it conveys its own refutation, however darkly, by some scientific contradiction. Thus Locke's “Moon Hoax” was a glorious story; for it could cause no pain or mischief, if true, and thought probably to superficial observers, contained features which, to the scientific, stamped it with impossibility according to known laws. And the Ledger once perpetrated a hoax in a small way, in the story of a living electric eel, Gymnotus Electricus, found in a human stomach, in Callowhill street. But we took especial care to make our eel too large for such a habitation, and to leave the scientific to infer that, it could not live long enough in the human stomach to attain such size, but would, long before that period, kill the patient by its electric action. And as we expected, while our eel was swallowed whole by the ignorant, it was dissected into very large improbabilities by the scientific scalpels of the doctors.

But the hoax perpetrated by “The Broadway Journal” is of a different character; for it is not only told in a style of simple and earnest seriousness which challenges belief, and with freedom from apparent contradiction, but it is fabricated over the grave, a place which all well regulated minds regard as sacred from the jester's tread. The story is that a Mr. Valdemar, of Harlem, being hear his end from consumption, consented to be mesmerized in his last extremity; that he was so; that the mesmeric operation left him with every external appearance of death; that, while in this condition, he spoke, the voice proceeding from his throat as if from a deep cavern, saying that he had been asleep, but was now dead; that he remained insensible, stiff, cold and silent for more than seven months; that on a repetition of mesmeric passes, he again spoke as before, repeating that he was dead; that the usual passes were then made to awaken a mesmeric patient, and that immediately, instantly after this, the body fell into complete, almost liquid putrefaction.

Reading this tale, Dr. Collyer, of Boston, addressed “The Broadway Journal,” saying the account had been universally copied in Boston, that he did not doubt its possibility, having restored to animation a man who had died of excessive drinking, and who was placed in his coffin for interment; that death often followed excessive nervous excitement, because vital power had not sufficient energy to react; that he wanted a reply to his letter, for publication, to check the growing belief, that, the story of Mr. Valdemar was a fabrication; that on the subject of mesmerism, he had fought too long with the storm of public derision, to be now found in the rear-rank of investigation that he had sent the account to Dr. Elliotson, of London, and to the “Zoist,” to which journal he regularly contributed; and that a reply to this application should be published only with the author's consent. “The Broadway Journal” immediately publishes this letter of Dr. Collyer without asking any consent, and adds the following editorial comment, in the number of December 27, 1845. “We have no doubt that Dr. Collyer is perfectly correct in all that he says — and that he desires us to say — but the truth is, there was a very small modicum of truth in the case of Mr. Valdemar — which, in consequence, may be called a hard case — very hard for Mr. Valdemar, for Mr. Collyer, and ourselves. If the story was not true, however, it should have been — and perhaps ‘The Zoist’ may discover that it is true, after all.”

This is certainly a very hard case for “The Broadway Journal;” for it not only imposes upon the public a fabrication, for the purpose of ridiculing a subject of scientific investigation, but it jests with the grave, and violates the sanctity of private correspondence. The object of the story is ridicule of mesmerism. We say that mesmerism may be, or may not be, true; that if it be true, its importance is momentous, if not, it should be dispelled as delusion. But how shall the question be settled? Not by idle jests or ingenious fabrications; but by scientific investigation, that process never contemned by the highest minds, generally by the lowest, and by the middle rank, according to their approach to either extremity. If Mesmer was ridiculed, so were Gallileo, Columbus, Fulton, Gall, Spurgheim; and when anything is offered as a discovery, the ignorant and stupid laugh, the enlightened and able investigate. But this tale is something more than the laugh of those who, by pronouncing every thing “humbug” which they do not comprehend, would make their own ignorance the limit of creative power. It is a violation of truth for the purpose of raising such laugh. If, on scientific investigation, the pretensions of mesmerism are obnoxious to ridicule, let them be derided. But can pretensions to scientific foundation be impugned by fraud? The falsehood on which the ridicule is founded is no part of the thing ridiculed. It is merely a part of the derider.

We object to this tale as a jest over the grave. Here we would exhibit no affection of solemnity. If, by searching, we can penetrate the awful mysteries of that bourne, let us search! But let us do it under the most solemn convictions of its dread importance to ourselves, and of duty to that MOST HIGH who hath made both life and death, time and eternity! We have no sympathies with those who can ever approach the awful gates of eternity, with hearts forgetful of the suffering imposed by the severance of earthy ties, or with minds that cannot rise from earth and look towards Heaven!

And we object to this violation of private confidence. Dr. Collyer, with the confiding simplicity of a mind and heart intent on scientific investigation, and soaring above ridicule, addresses inquires to the author, solely for the benefit of science, and under the prompting of rational curiosity, promising to publish the reply only with his consent. The Doctor's letter is immediately published, without his consent, as a “good joke,” showing his easy credulity! Showing how easily he had been entrapped and rendered ridiculous by a hoax! Had the Doctor suspected this design, he would not have written his letter. But he never suspected the editor of falsehood. With the simplicity of an honest mind, he supposed that the editor would deal fairly with himself, and not publish his private letter without authority, for the purpose of deriding the author for having believed a fabrication. The Doctor may easily bear all the ridicule of having misplaced. His confidence, of having had honesty enough to believe, too much to suspect. And the editor is entitled to all the glory of having imposed upon the public a jest upon a solemn subject, and of having violated private confidence, for the purpose of showing that a man, intent on scientific truth, was too honest in his search to suspect a lie. The case is not very hard for the Doctor, but is truly hard for the editor.